I’m getting tired of the radio. I don’t like the repeatrepeatrepeat of the same boring songs. I suppose it’s because every time I turn the radio on I hear our song. I don’t have skeletons in my closet. I have them in my radio.

You know, I should hate you. I really should. I used to love the radio. Now because of you, I’m a radio hater. I don’t want to hang out with those kids at school who listen to the screamo music. Now, I feel I have no choice. So today at lunch, I think I’ll go sit with that weird Brian kid. You can hear from a mile away he’s listening to the heavy metal. I’ll ask him to give me an ear bud. He’ll say no. So I’ll tell him that I’ll give him my Twinkie. He’ll agree. Kids like that do anything for a Twinkie.

While I’m eating my deflated peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I’ll watch you at your table, laughing with your friends. They’ll be throwing chips at my new lunch table, like they always do, because they don’t like anything that’s different. I guess you’re just like they are. You don’t like anything different either. I’m sorry I’m not blonde.

And then later, when I try to talk to you, you’ll gag me with your words about “just wanting to be friends”. I smile and say, “Okay…I agree its better this way… I’m glad we’re still friends.” I hope you see I’m not okay, that things aren’t better this way, that I don’t want to be just friends. I hope you regret everything you did. I hope you lie in bed and just wish you could take everything back. I hope you wish that other blonde and, for that matter, all your other pretty little blonde friends, never existed.

I’m going to cut up that bracelet you gave me and burn it, then send those ashes to you in an envelope. On the back I’ll write ‘Yours Truly’ in those cute block letters your girlfriend uses, and spray my perfume all over it. Then I’ll seal it with a kiss, using my sister’s Revlon Limited Edition red ruby lipstick, and stick it in your locker.
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All my friends will tell me it’s a bad idea, I shouldn’t do it. That I’m acting like those creepy stalker ex-girlfriends. I will anyways. It was a bad idea for you to go out with a girl with that big of a reputation. And I don’t mean reputation as in visiting old people and saving little bunnies. Yeah, I mean that other reputation.

I told myself I wouldn’t think about you, but now I find myself in planning this out in my head as I sit in second period World History. All I can do right now is think about what I can do to make you regret your decision. These things may possibly work. I know a lot about you. Some things you can’t even see. You told me you’re still afraid of the dark, and you snore. So if these things don’t work, I have one foolproof thing to make you regret. I’ll thank you for making me a radio hater. Because I know you. And that was your favorite part about me. I loved the radio. Well, used to.